So You Charmed Your Closet, Then?
by gallifrey calls now
Summary: Imagine Harry and Ron's surprise when they visit Hermione in her flat one day and find a half-naked Tom Riddle squished uncomfortably in her closet. Crack. Sequel up.


Summary: Imagine Harry and Ron's surprise when they visit Hermione in her flat one day and find a half-naked Tom Riddle squished uncomfortably in her closet.

It happened a year ago. Hermione'd landed a job in the Department of Mysteries, an opportunity she just couldn't say no to. So, the researcher she was, she started getting interested in time travel. Her higher ups noticed it, and put her in charge of figuring out how to move back and forward through years, safely.

A month later, she managed to get her small spell to work a bit, when she heard someone cough in annoyance behind her. A someone who had his wand out, tried to kill her on the spot, then realized it wasn't working because he was waving his wand back and forth in confusion and nothing happened.

Hermione soon learned that someone was Tom Riddle, Voldemort _extraordinaire_, and kept cowering a bit in his presence, until he sighed and blatantly informed her that he literally could not torture or kill her unless using Muggle ways, and he would rather be passive than resort to those.

Hermione then proceeded telling him all about her project and what it involved, and Tom informed her that his plans for world domination were interrupted until he found a way to get back to 1947 and get enough money by working at Borgin and Burke. She glared at him all night after that.

They were at an impasse. A frustrating one, at that. Tom absolutely refused to go to Azkaban when Hermione meekly suggested it - "_I don't think it's going to be that bad, Tom, really think about it" "Yes, because I enjoy getting my happiness sucked out on a daily basis."_ - so he was stucked inside Hermione's modest flat, and Hermione was at a standstill with her project, and she didn't see Tom coming up with any ideas.

But then, two months later, they'd both gotten drunk and sort of made out on her couch, falling asleep on one another, and waking up in the morning with Tom's hand casually resting against the curve of her breast. Hermione was even less unhappy when they discovered the hickey on Tom's neck, having the proof necessary so that she couldn't accuse him of taking advantage of her without looking like a complete hypocrite.

(He wasn't ever going to let her live it down. EVER)

Then, one day, she'd came home from work crying, blabbering on about "Ronald" and "I hate him". Tom simply held her while casually reading a book, carressing her back gently as she slowly fell asleep.

Their relationship sort of escalated from there. They'd had their fair share of awkward kisses - Tom wasn't nearly as experienced as she'd thought he'd be, what with his good looks and all that - sure, but that never stopped them from exploring more and more.

One day, Tom had his hand all the way up her skirt, softly massaging her thigh, and they didn't stop there.

So imagine Hermione's surprise when her friends came to visit one day, completely announced, the doorbell ringing merrily just as she and Tom were getting to the good part.

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Didn't your... _friends _inform you they would visit you?"

"No, not really," Hermione muttered, sighing deeply as the doorbell rang a few more times. "And please, stop saying friends like it's a disease."

Tom's mouth twitched. "Maybe it is."

Hermione groaned as she leaned over to kiss him, growling as he started deepening the kiss.

"Tom..."

"Just ignore them." 

The doorbell rang a few more times, this time accompanied by thunderous beats against the door.

"'MIONE! If you don't open this door we're breaking it!" 

"Coming, just wait a second!" she yelled back.

"...DID YOU HEAR ME?"

Tom snorted.

Hermione gave him a pleading look. "Would you please go hide in the closet?" 

His smile vanished. "...No."

"Please?"

"No." 

"...You'll go to Azkaban if you don't."

He growled at her, grabbed the back of her neck harshly for another kiss before smirking at her and retreating into her closet.

Leaving her flustered and obviously looking like she hiding something.

As she opened the door, Ron walked right past her and flopped on the couch. Harry looked at her flustered appearance and slightly bruised lips, but said nothing, choosing to remain silent."

"Damn it, 'Mione, I'm starving," Ron wailed as she walked past him.

"Then go eat something," she snapped.

"We were going to," Ron shrugged, "but Harry over here decided he was going to invite Ginny too so I decided to go with my favorite girl."

"So where's Lav-Lav then?" she asked innocently, as Harry snorted.

Ron shot her a dirty look. "I meant you."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't catch that, my bad."

That was when the shit hit the fan. Her closet snorted.

Harry and Hermione both froze, and Ron asked, "Why in the bloody hell is your closet talking? Did you charm it or something, 'Mione?"

Harry quietly stood up, ignoring Hermione's pleas of "nonononono, please Harry, for me, don't do this" and Ron's confused "what you doin', mate?".

The Boy-Who-Lived walked straight to the closet and pulled the doors open. An amused - and quite handsomely half-naked - Tom Riddle was staring right back at him.

"Hello, Mr. Potter. I've been looking forward to meeting you."

...


End file.
